


A Hero's Death

by mediocrityatbest



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, I didn't really expand on that because it wasn't the focus, It's background romantic and qpr lamp, M/M, Multi, The focus is romantic Moxiety, This was really horrible to write though, You've been warned, but - Freeform, i made them suffer, ya know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 17:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19398940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocrityatbest/pseuds/mediocrityatbest
Summary: Virgil always wanted to be a hero. And now he is. But it's not quite like anybody imagined it.





	A Hero's Death

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first story for the fandom, so I'm very happy to share it. Enjoy!  
> Also, I'm putting all my work from Tumblr on here, so my Tumblr is @mediocrity-at-best in case you want to check it out.

The bridge had collapsed.

Or, was collapsing?

Patton didn't know which term would be more correct-phrasing and language was far more Logan's area of expertise, and right now Patton did not have time to call Logan and ask. The point was, the most massive battle between people with powers was happening right now, and Virgil-Patton's Virgil, one of the loves of Patton's life-was caught in the middle of it.

Rather, he was caught under it. Virgil had thrown himself under the bridge when another Superhuman had knocked out the supports. His strength and resilience and pure stubborn will was allowing him to hold it up, but even that had a limit and Patton knew, _he knew_ , that that limit was going to be reached soon.

Too soon. God, Patton knew if he could just get there before the inevitable, then he could help, they could _fix this_ -

Patton, the only Normal Human present, went scrambling over the rubble of once-standing buildings. (Already, four different Superhumans, heroes and civilians, had tried to usher Patton out of the warzone. But they didn’t have the time to argue with some idiot, rushing headlong into death. All Patton had to do was insist he wasn’t leaving, and in some cases rush away when they grabbed at him. He was lucky, he supposed, that no villains had spotted him, but they weren’t really looking for civilians anymore. No, they seemed to be intent on destroying as much of the city as possible, everything-and everyone-else be damned.) Rocks and debris scittered down the mountains he crossed as his reckless, clumsy feet dislodged them. He twisted his ankle and then twisted it again and kept running. He was so close, so close to his love. Not his first, not his last, but the one in the middle. The man who taught Patton acceptance of his own flaws and problems. The man who taught Patton that just because something is different does not mean it is bad or makes you worth less.

Patton ducked a bright green thing flying for his head and fell. His glasses hit the ground, and one side shattered. The frames were still intact, so Patton shoved them back on his face and kept running. He wouldn't have stopped even for the glasses, but he couldn't see anything without them. His sight was worse than Logan's, and that was saying something.

Now half-blind and bleeding, Patton was stumbling through a veritable war-zone. The projectiles were coming faster now, and buildings were still slamming into the ground. How were there still buildings left to fall? How hadn't all the Superhumans killed each other? How could this all still be happening when Virgil, Patton's sweet and sour shadowling, was being crushed? How could the world still be moving when they needed to stop and _help_ him?

Patton tripped down the last rubble hill and there, not twenty feet away, was Virgil. Sweat and what looked like blood- _please don't be blood_ \- soaked through the long sleeved maroon shirt he wore. (Roman had bought him that two years ago for Valentine's Day. _I know our love is not romantic, but I love you all the same, and Valentine's Day is celebrating all love_ , Roman had told his qpp with his usual flare. _And look! It's even in our colors!_ Virgil had played it off like it was nothing, but it was the shirt he wore whenever he felt bad, or when he needed to feel braver.) You couldn't tell how absolutely stick-thin Virgil was under the huge shirt. He was the last person you would think had super-strength.

(Patton remembered the day he'd found out. They'd been dating for almost a year and in typical Virgil fashion, he'd become too anxious to simply tell Patton that he was Superhuman. (He was scared of rejection, or that Patton would be angry that Virgil hadn't said anything sooner. _Like a disclaimer, ya'know?_ Patton, in typical Patton fashion, had only been delighted.) Instead, he came back from a week of radio silence. Patton rushed him for a hug, and Virgil had wrapped his arms around Patton, _lifted_ , and spun. Patton was stunned. Rare was the person who could lift Patton. (He wasn't tall, but he had a particular affinity for cookies, and he was a baker.) Virgil smiled sheepishly and ran a shaking hand through his hair. After his initial shock, Patton had squealed and demanded to know everything. Virgil was kind enough to comply. Now, Virgil's hugs and spins were some of Patton's favorites.)

"Virgil!"

"Patton?" There wasn't even enough space for Virgil to lift his head from how he was squatting an _entire bridge,_ but the shock in his voice was obvious enough. "What are you doing here? Go! You need to get out!"

"Virge, honey, you need to come out. Alright? You have to drop the bridge."

"There's still people under it, Patton! I can't let it go. But you need to leave. It's not safe here." Virgil twisted his head to look up to Patton. (Virgil had never looked _up_ at Patton before in his life. Patton was five foot nine, but Virgil was six foot four.) Virgil was shaking as he did it, like he could barely stand to move his head at all.

Patton took a second to glance to the side. Virgil was right; other Superhumans were running and flying and leaping and crawling under the soon-to-be-wreckage, pulling out civilians and animals and other Superhumans alike. He jerked back to Virgil.

"I'm not leaving without you, Virge. And if you don't let the bridge down, you'll die. You can save so many more of them if you keep living, Virgil. So many more people will need your help, and you _can_ help them, but you have to live to do it. Please, Virge. You need to get out from under there." Patton dropped to his knees in front of Virgil. Virgil's head dropped down with him, like a puppet who's master lost the strings. Patton cupped his face, and felt the trembling-in his cheeks, his arms, his legs. Like Virgil was experiencing his own personal earthquake. "Honey, if you don't let it go, let _this_ go now, you won't be able to. Please, Virgil. Please, I need you. Roman and Logan need you. Virgil, you'll die if you don't get _on top_ of this now." Patton tried to smile at the word-play, but it was too much.

"Patton, I can't." Virgil looked stricken, and Patton could tell he was an inch closer to the ground now than he had been.

"Virgil, _please_. I-I can't leave you here, a-and I-"

"No. Patton, I can't. It's-it's too late." Virgil smiled, watery and brave. "It was too late before you got here. I-I can't lift it, my angel. So you need to leave. Because-because I can't protect you, and I don't want you to see this. Okay, my angel?" The expression of Virgil's face crumpled like paper, and Patton stared, horror and denial turning him to a punching bag.

"Virgil, you have to. Please, I need you, Virgil. You-you have to try. For me. Try for me, Virge. _Please try_." Patton was gasping, tears running down his face. Virgil looked at Patton, and he forced a heavy breath out. Then in. Out again.

"Okay, Pat. For you. I'll try for you." Then, Virgil's face twisted up into a feral snarl, and he shook and he shook as he pushed against the weight of everything. In that moment, Patton saw the man who was locked at a crossroads in the public eye; the man who stood between a dozen debates. Half the population thought him to be a villain, and the other half thought he was a hero. The dark choice in clothes, secret identity, avoiding the press, and ever present snarl was more than enough to put a doubt in the masses. Was Purple Shadow good? Was he really a villain? (Patton remembered Virgil picking the outfit, when he'd decided to be a hero. ( _I'm not a hero. I'm just going to help people._ ) He'd nervously fingered the stiff black fabric, and muttered _what if it's too dark? What if they think I'm going to hurt them? What if they hate me?_ Patton had patted his back. _Kiddo, what you wear won't matter. They'll see that you want to help._ But Virgil had been antsy, so Patton had learned to sew. He sewed swirls of dark and iridescent and bright purple into the cloth. _Not so dark now, but still dark. Do you like it?_ Virgil had loved it. And Patton had even made him a royal purple cape that could function sort of like a hoodie, but ripped off easily so that it wouldn't hinder him in battle. _It's perfect, my angel. I adore it._ )

The bridge lifted a centimeter at a time. Patton kept mumbling praises and pleas, and begging every god Logan had ever mentioned from school or that Roman had ever mentioned from his plays to _please, let Virgil live, take Patton instead, switch their places, let Virgil have a life damnit, he deserves one._

Except, the bridge stopped moving upward. And Virgil let out a shuddering breath. And then slowly he began to fold again, stone bridge pressing and pressing and gravity stomping Virgil lower and lower and _fuck_ Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein whoever else made gravity so _goddamn irreversible._

"Virgil, honey, please. Just, keep trying. Keep trying, Virge. You were almost there. You were _so close_ , Virge. Just-"

"Patton, I can't. I can't do it. It's too much. It's too heavy and I can't get out, and I'm sorry I'm so sorry this is all my fault I shouldn't have-"

"Virgil, listen. It's alright. It's alright. This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault." Patton forced a smile, tears streaking his dirty face. Virgil was terrified, and having a panic attack, and Patton could never let his Virge hurt like that. He could smile through this pain for Virgil. He would grin and bear it if that's what Virgil needed to be okay. To not be scared.

"I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm so sorry, my angel. I-I don't want to die. I don't-"

"I know, Virge. I know. You'll be okay. Somebody will help. You just have to last a little longer. Deep breaths, honey, okay? Just keep breathing." Patton looked wildly around, trying to find someone who could lift the bridge. Just for a second, just long enough to pull Virgil out, but the fight was still raging around them. Not one Superhuman spared a glance for the man holding up the world.

"Pat-Patton, I'm scared. I'm scared. Please, Pat. I-I don't want to die alone. I don't want to be alone. Please, don't leave. It's selfish, I know I'm being selfish, but please Patton. Please don't leave me. I-I don't want to die. I'm scared-" Virgil broke off. He was shaking even more, barely a foot above the ground, and he was crying. Virgil was bawling right where everyone could see, and Virgil would never do that. Virgil hated crying.

"Virgil, honey, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be right here. I will stay right here, okay Virgil? Can you hear me? I'm going to be with you. It's not a selfish thing at all Virgil, and I love you, and it's not your fault, and nothing could move me from this spot. Alright, Virge? I am staying with you. I chose you and I choose you and I am staying right _here_." Patton scooted forward and pressed a kiss to Virgil's lips. He reached under the bridge and wrapped his hand around Virgil's wrist, rubbing his hand soothingly. "I love you, Virgil. Nothing could move me from this spot. Nothing."

Selfish? Virgil thought that not wanting to die alone was selfish? That was the least selfish thing that Patton had ever heard of. Virgil, of all the people Patton had met through charity work and non-profit organizations, was the least selfish person Patton had ever met. He was amazing and kind and didn't ask for help because he didn't want to inconvenience others. Patton had begged to do the stitching on Virgil's costume. And Virgil had barely agreed. He did everything for everyone and asked for nothing back. And now he was scared and thought asking for any comfort was selfish? He was beautiful and perfect and he never saw that and he was never selfish.

"Patton, I-I can't hold it. I'm gonna fall. I'm gonna fall. I-It's-" Virgil stuttered off again, and Patton looked around desperately before tensing. There was no help coming, no one who cared enough to stop and help, and that alone made Virgil worth a thousand of them.

Patton forced back tears. He knew what he had to do.

"Virgil, it's okay. If you can't hold it, you don't have to. You can just let it go, okay? Nobody will be mad, nobody will be disappointed. You tried your best and you saved so many lives, and everybody knows that. Okay, honey? I-I want you to keep trying, but I understand if you can't. I-" Patton let out one sob. "If you need to let go, you can. I will be right here with you Virgil. You will never be alone, okay? I will be here, and if you need to let go, then it's okay. I understand. You can let go." Tears ran down Patton's face, but he refused to sob. Virgil needed him to he strong. For once, Virgil was _asking_ that Patton help. He wanted Patton to help him, and Patton wouldn't fail him. Not now. Not when it mattered most.

"I-I love you, my angel. I love you so much." (Patton remembered the first time Virgil had called him _my angel_. They had been together for three years. (Roman was already in the picture by then. He had completed their happy quartet.) In all their time together-three years of friendship, one year of something more, three years of dating-Virgil had never used a pet name. He had never called Patton anything other than Patton or Pat. (Patton didn't mind. He was a little sad at first, but he got over it. It was just another piece of Virgil to learn to love.) It hadn't been a particularly special day, but they had been at the house alone, Logan and Roman both busy with other things at the time, and Patton had been sad. There wasn't a reason, just the chemicals in his head acting up again. (They did that sometimes. Virgil assured him it was nothing that needed fixing. He wasn’t broken. He just needed a little help.) And Virgil had come up and whispered, _what's the matter, my angel? What do you need?_ Patton's brain had malfunctioned for a moment, not feeling sad or numb or anything but shocked. Virgil went red and began apologizing, trying to take it back. But Patton's brain caught up, and the sadness came back, and he grabbed Virgil's wrist- **like he was now** -and burst into tears. They stung his eyes, but that didn't matter. The name didn't magically clear up the sadness and it didn't make the chemicals work right, but it did make Patton's heart flutter. It did make Patton feel a little warmer. It did make the tears in his eyes feel not so bad as before. _I need you to say it again. Please, Virge._ And Virgil had sat next to him, held him close, laid them both down on their too-small couch, and whispered _my angel_ over and over. He whispered it until Patton closed his eyes, he whispered until the tears dried up, he whispered until the sun set and Patton slept, and Patton's pretty sure he heard him whispering still while he slept. Virgil never said it around others, and Patton never mentioned it to anyone else. It was Patton's name. His title. Patton was Virgil's angel, and that was among his greatest prides.)

The bridge fell.

Patton screamed as Virgil was shattered and smashed under an impossible weight, and Patton screamed as his own hand went with his second love. Patton screamed as the blood began seeping out from under the bridge, and Patton screamed as the blood soaked the knees of his pants. Patton screamed as his world fell apart, and Patton screamed as everything else did too. Patton screamed as everything kept moving and fighting, and Patton screamed as it all became too much.

Finally, hours or days or weeks later, Patton went quiet. He had no sound left. And then he noticed a shimmer of purple. The detachable cape Virgil had worn. Torn off in the battle, or dropped from Virgil's bag when he rushed to help? Patton didn't know. Logan probably would, he thought quietly. Logan would know what was going on and why it was happening. And Roman would make a joke to let Patton know it was alright.

Patton reached for the sooty material, and he felt with immaculate clarity the agonizing pain as his wrist moved from where it was smashed, made to be one with his love. The pain didn't make Patton pause. He just kept reaching and shifting until he could grab the cape. He pulled the material into his lap and sat, hand smashed and a third of his world gone. He sat and he toyed with the material. He sat and he cried because Virgil did not deserve this. He cried because _he_ didn't deserve this. He cried because Roman and Logan didn't even know yet, and they didn't deserve this, and who would have to tell them? Patton thought he should. He was in love with them both-different kinds of love, but still love. He owed them the news himself. They should hear it from him.

Patton sat in the debris and blood in the midst of the largest battle in a century, and he cried because he had lost. They had all lost.

So, so much.


End file.
